Journey
by gure
Summary: What might have happened if Kenshin had caught more than just a glimpse of Enishi on the battlefield at Toba Fushimi. What if AU. Remembrance arc spoilers.


Disclaimer: Rurouni Kenshin belongs to Nobuhiro Watsuki. There's a direct quote of a couple of lines from volume 20, pages 117-8. I don't own that, either.

Summary: What might have happened if Kenshin had caught more than just a glimpse of Enishi on the battlefield at Toba-Fushimi. What-if AU. Remembrance arc spoilers.

A/N: A stab at a multi-chapter fic. Have had this idea for a while, wondering what could've happened if Kenshin had chased after Enishi at Toba-Fushimi. For me, one of the most interesting aspects of the Jinchuu arc is the way Kenshin reacts every time Enishi attempts to tell him about his life after they last saw each other eleven years before. Enishi tries and succeeds at pushing Kenshin's buttons, and Kenshin reacts so violently each time, he must be carrying around some serious guilt on the matter. I wanted to give Kenshin a chance to try to work on some of that guilt.

A word of warning: this fic is unbetaed, so beware of typos, misspellings, grammar issues, and vacuous gaps in logic. I've proofread this, but sometimes that isn't quite enough. If you catch mistakes, I'd be much obliged if you let me know. Thanks!

**Journey**

By: gure

Chapter 1

Back braced against a tree, lightly dozing, Kenshin became aware of movement. Keeping his eyes closed, he waited. There! To the left. Eyes snapping open, he whipped his head around to see Enishi freeze half-crouched, startlement clear on his face, as he attempted to leave their small camp. Realization that he'd been caught slowly dawned, and Kenshin stared as the boy straightened, rearranging his features into a more neutral expression. Sauntering back to his bedroll, he shot his unwanted guardian a venomous look before settling back down, curling into a ball, and pulling the blanket over his head. Nothing but a few tufts of white hair poked out. If it weren't for the tension and frustration emanating from the small shrouded form, Kenshin could almost believe he had dreamed the whole incident. Closing his eyes with a sigh, he readjusted his back against the tree and tightened his grip on the sakabatou resting against his shoulder. Their small camp quieted down to the chirping of crickets and the wind soughing through the branches above their heads.

In the few days he had left the fighting and set out on this journey with Enishi, it had been this way. Enishi took every possible opportunity to express his will and demonstrate his displeasure with Kenshin. In a small way, Kenshin admired the boy's determination, but he had no desire to be Enishi's warden. The child wasn't a prisoner. Well, at least from Kenshin's way of thinking. Enishi, obviously, held a different opinion on the matter. However, he had taken responsibility for the boy, and he couldn't have him roaming off in the dead of night. The world was a cruel place; anything could happen, and Kenshin knew this all too well. He wanted to protect his young brother-in-law from experiencing any more pain and grief than he already had. It was the least he could do, for her. But Enishi was so stubborn! Had he been this difficult as an adolescent? The short answer to that was yes, yes he had. His mouth twitched, almost a smile, as he wondered how his shishou had ever put up with him. His mind quickly shied away from thoughts of Hiko, and he tried once more to focus on Enishi and the situation at hand. Settling his back more comfortably against the tree, he let his mind drift to their first meeting in four years. The battle had only been a few days ago, and the stench of death and smoke was still so strong in his mind...

When he glimpsed Enishi on the battlefield at Toba, for an instant, time stopped. They locked eyes for a moment, and then Enishi was gone. Melted into the steady stream of fleeing townspeople. Ignoring his superior's cries of "Himura!", Kenshin slogged across the field almost frantically searching for another glimpse of white hair. He knew he hadn't imagined it. It had only been a few years, and he'd only met the boy briefly, but he distinctly remembered that his hair had been black. What had he encountered in these intervening years?

Kenshin admitted to being far too preoccupied with his own grief after Tomoe's death to search for her brother. Then, he had been called back to Kyoto and was left with no time to look. Now was his chance. Here by this ruined village. He knew he didn't have much time, and had to make his way to the fighting in Fushimi, but Kenshin couldn't let this opportunity pass. He knew Enishi hated him, knew Enishi saw Tomoe die, but wasn't it his responsibility to take care of his family? Like it or not, Enishi was family, and he owed it to Tomoe to look after him. Kenshin's mind raced as he pushed through the stream of travelers murmuring apologies, searching.

He had almost given up when he caught sight of white hair, some distance away, bobbing around soldiers and over piles of debris. Kenshin shoved aside the fatigue that had been gnawing at his bones and broke into a jog just as the wind kicked up, blowing tendrils of smoke across his view. When the smoke cleared, he was even closer than he realized to the small figure. Calling out Enishi's name, Kenshin picked up his pace. Enishi turned at the sound of his name, sneered at the sight of Kenshin, and started to run. Closer now, and taking advantage of Enishi's hesitation, Kenshin made a flying leap, tackling the boy to the ground, just as he had turned to flee.

Enishi let out a yelp of surprise and immediately started kicking, biting, scratching, anything to wriggle free of his captor. He grinned when he heard a grunt from Kenshin as one of his knees hit home. Kenshin, so used to the savagery of battle, was appalled by the sheer animal desire to _get away_ displayed by Enishi. So surprised, he almost lost his grip on the boy. Almost.

There, a heap of flailing limbs on the ground, drawing stares from some of the remaining soldiers, Kenshin freed a hand and slapped the struggling boy, hard. Enishi gasped, and turned shocked eyes up to Kenshin's face, too stunned to remember he was trying to get away. Slowly, thanking the gods the boy had stopped kicking, Kenshin let go of Enishi's wrist, and made to stand, motioning for Enishi to get up as well. Gripping his shoulders, Kenshin looked down into Enishi's face.

"Enishi…your hair…" He hadn't been mistaken. This was indeed Enishi, and Kenshin surmised that this was how his pain revealed itself. In response, all he received was a clicking of teeth as the boy attempted to move in for a bite. Yes, it was definitely Enishi.

Holding him at arm's length, Kenshin's eyes widened as a rage strangled, "Fuck you, Battousai," was spat in his direction. Such language for such a young boy. What had he been doing for the past four years? Whatever it was, it couldn't have been good, judging by his ferocity and nearly emaciated form. Kenshin could feel sharp bones in the boy's shoulders, and what clothing he had found just hung off of him. He was dirty, and needed to be fattened up. A hissed, "You killed Sister!" shook Kenshin from his assessment, and brought his attention to another problem. Now that he had found Enishi, what was he going to do with him?

At present, they were in the middle of a battlefield with a small, nervous audience of soldiers. Kenshin knew he had to make his way to Fushimi soon. The Shinsengumi weren't going to wait for his arrival. But what about Enishi? That Enishi would bolt as soon as he let go of him was a certainty. With the look of pure, unmitigated hatred the boy was currently giving him, Kenshin was fairly certain nothing short of braining him with the hilt of his katana would keep him in one place. He hoped it wouldn't come to that. What to do?

Shaking off the unnerving memory, Kenshin opened his eyes and looked over at the blanket-covered lump situated as far from him as possible while still remaining within the confines of their little camp. What to do, indeed.

There were no more incidents during the course of the night, and the next morning dawned cool and crisp. The sun wasn't quite over the horizon, but the predawn sky was a clear, deep blue, tinged pink in the east. Kenshin marveled at the beautiful morning. While working in Kyoto, it seemed every day had been cloudy and dark. The heavens had wept over the bloodshed, mourning the dead. Perhaps now Kenshin would have the time and inclination to appreciate his surroundings. Perhaps the world wasn't as awful a place as he had thought. After so few days, he hadn't gotten used to his new freedom, and the giddiness was like a drug. A morning like this could give a tired, stained soul such as his hope for the future.

Kenshin allowed himself a small smile, stretched where he sat against the tree, and froze, the smile slipping from his features. He felt the shiver run down his spine a second before he heard the rustle of a blanket. Enishi. The boy sat up and glared at Kenshin through sleep-heavy eyes. They stared at each other for a moment before Enishi pushed himself up and ambled through the few trees standing between them and the stream running next to their camp. Kenshin stared after him, frowning in thought.

Was he doing the right thing, taking Enishi back to Edo and his father? It seemed like the right thing to do, reuniting the family. It was bad enough Yukishiro-san had lost a daughter, he shouldn't lose his son, too. This was Kenshin's reasoning, but he couldn't help but feel guilty. He'd used guilt to convince Enishi to go, he was practically forcing the boy to travel at sword point, and he absolutely could not wait to be rid of his brother-in-law. Kenshin considered himself to be a patient man, but the constant resentment and anger emanating from Enishi was wearing on his nerves. Worse, Kenshin knew that anger was justified. He couldn't blame Enishi for his feelings, and wouldn't argue should he decide to exact revenge. The boy was a constant reminder of Tomoe and his own sins. The proximity was painful, and Kenshin hoped taking Enishi to his father would ultimately ease that pain, a little.

He wanted to make amends, wanted to atone. Returning Enishi to what remained of his family would be a start. He could try to take care of Enishi himself, but with a father waiting in Edo, wasn't the best option to escort him home? Enishi would be far better off with his own father. Even with this reasoning, somehow it still seemed like an excuse to be free of any entanglements, to get away and try to piece his own life together. "Excuses!" he hissed to himself as he straightened stiff legs and rose to get the fire going again for tea.

By the time Enishi returned from the stream, Kenshin had pulled out the remainder of their dinner from the night before, rice balls hastily purchased at a stand on the way out of town, and was heating the leftover water for tea. Silently, he offered the boy a rice ball as he seated himself on the other side of the small fire. Just as silently, Enishi accepted it, and began to eat. Kenshin watched him for a moment, and at an irritated flicker of Enishi's eyes, began to eat his own breakfast. Soon enough the tea was ready, and both sat sipping, as the warmth seeped through stoneware bowls into chilled fingers.

Finally, Kenshin broke the silence. "If we keep up a steady pace, we should reach Edo in about five more days or so." Enishi nodded, acknowledging the announcement, and rose, reaching out a hand to take Kenshin's tea bowl to rinse at the stream. Surprised, Kenshin handed him the bowl, and sat stunned for a moment before shaking himself out of his stupor and standing to begin breaking down their camp.

He was somewhat unnerved by Enishi's behavior this morning. It was so different from before; the past couple of days had been filled with accusations and any number of epithets. Kenshin was both impressed and saddened by Enishi's full and descriptive vocabulary. There were a few words that even Kenshin, who had spent the last five years with a variety of soldiers from many walks of life, had never heard before. This morning, though, Enishi was subdued.

As Enishi returned, placed the bowls next to Kenshin's pack, and slowly stooped to fold his bedroll, Kenshin came to the conclusion that the change could most likely be attributed to exhaustion. The last few days had been filled with a considerable amount of emotion, and if his own exhaustion was any gauge, he was sure that Enishi must be tired, too. He had the nagging feeling, though, that there was more to this change in attitude. He just wasn't sure what that was, yet. While Enishi finished tying the strap to his bedroll, and turned to put out the fire, Kenshin slipped out of the camp to take his turn at the stream.

Returning with cold hands and considerably more refreshed from the icy water, Kenshin patted the comforting weight of the sakabatou at his hip, and took one last look around their campsite. The fire was doused, Enishi stood waiting with his pack, and all that was left was his own pack, sitting next to his tree. Slinging the pack over his shoulder, he turned to Enishi and nodded. "East. We'll go east through the trees along the road and see how far it takes us." Enishi shrugged, and started walking toward the rising sun.

The day was chilly, but walking was an excellent way to warm up a body, and the movement set Kenshin's restless mind at ease. They had been tracking the road for an hour or so, and had said little. Kenshin couldn't help contemplating the boy walking a few paces ahead. Why hadn't he left the night before? He backed down so easily. It was so unlike his behavior on the battlefield, or at the inn when he had returned from the fighting. He regretted that his methods for keeping Enishi from bolting were so harsh, that their meeting had been far from pleasant. Kenshin suppressed a shudder, remembering the rage that eminated from Enishi as they stood on that battlefield...

Kenshin gripped Enishi's shoulders, still wondering how to keep him from running. Time was so short; he had to rejoin the fighting soon. Glancing at the curious ring of soldiers that had formed around them, he recognized a familiar face from the inn. A young soldier, probably around his age, but relatively new to the fighting in Kyoto. They had exchanged a few words from time to time, and Kenshin had been secretly pleased to encounter someone who seemed to accept him as just another soldier. He was certain the young man knew who he had been, and appreciated that he never made a big deal of it.

The young man nodded almost imperceptibly when Kenshin caught his eye. Relieved to have help in this, Kenshin made his decision. Acting quickly, before Enishi could figure out what was happening and before he could lose his nerve, Kenshin let go of one shoulder, whipped his wakizashi out of his obi, and struck the boy with the hilt against his temple. Enishi dropped like a stone, and Kenshin adjusted his grip to catch him, holding the boy against him. There was a collective gasp from the small group as they realized what had just happened. Battousai was fast, very fast, and ruthless.

Ignoring the others, as well as a sharp stab of guilt, Kenshin nodded to the young man, calling out, "Kiyoshi, please take Enishi back to the inn, and stay with him. Use my room. I'll try to return as soon as possible." Kiyoshi nodded, coming forward to take Enishi from Kenshin's arms, and easily slung the boy over a shoulder. Kenshin squashed a twinge of jealousy at Kiyoshi's impressive size and strength, and thanked him, before taking off at a run toward Fushimi.

Kiyoshi watched him go with a puzzled frown. Who, exactly, was he taking back to the inn? Well, the boy was obviously important to Kenshin, and hopefully he'd be able to pry a little information from his tight-lipped comrade later. Hefting Enishi's dead weight higher on his shoulder, Kiyoshi left the curious gaggle of soldiers behind, and made his way back to the inn on the outskirts of Kyoto.

Kenshin returned to the inn hours later, cold, dirty, bloody, and dead tired. He trudged up the stairs to his room, and paused before the door, listening. The room was quiet. Sliding the door open, he first saw Enishi laid out on his futon, and then Kiyoshi sitting in the window seat. He was a little surprised Enishi was still out. _Did I hit him that hard?_

Kiyoshi caught the horrified expression on Kenshin's face, and sought to reassure him. "The boy, Enishi, was it? Woke up a couple hours ago. I gave him some tea and a bit to eat, and he dropped right off afterward. Why's he so important to you? You look like hell. What happened out there?"

Kenshin had stopped listening once he realized that Enishi's sleep was natural. He'd probably have a headache in the morning. He made a mental note to check with the hostess of the inn and see if she had anything to help. Suddenly aware that Kiyoshi was still speaking, he answered with a brilliant, "Huh?"

Sighing, Kiyoshi tried again. "I said, why is this kid so important to you? But first, what happened out there? Is it over? Did we win? Say, where are your swords?"

Head spinning with exhaustion, Kenshin tried to make sense of the barrage of questions. Sinking to the floor, he looked up at Kiyoshi who was watching him expectantly. The attention made him uncomfortable, but he answered as best he could. "Yes, we won." The news was greeted with a muted whoop from Kiyoshi. Kenshin gave him a sharp look and cut his eyes over to the sleeping boy. Having the good grace to look sheepish, Kiyoshi waved a hand for Kenshin to continue. "The fighting seems to be over, for now. There are many dead, on both sides." This seemed to subdue Kiyoshi a bit. He bowed his head a moment, then asked again, "So what about the kid?"

Kenshin looked over at Enishi. "He's…" Did he really want to share this with Kiyoshi? He never spoke to anyone about Tomoe, but Kiyoshi had been kind enough to stay with Enishi, and that deserved something, even if it wasn't the whole truth. Starting again, he said quietly, "He's family," and left the explanation at that. Kiyoshi could think whatever he wished.

Noting his comrade's hesitation, Kiyoshi simply nodded and said, "You really do look like hell. Go get a bath and something to eat. I'll stay until you get back." Kenshin felt a rush of gratitude at the offer. He hadn't wanted to ask the man to continue to look after Enishi, but since he volunteered… "Thank you. I won't be long." As he rose from his spot and poked around the room for a clean yukata, Kiyoshi smiled and waved Kenshin out. "Go on, you stink!"

Kenshin headed first for the bath house, any thoughts of food, fighting, Enishi, or even Tomoe pushed aside by the all-consuming need to get clean. He was filthy. Not only from the fighting, but from that tussle on the ground with Enishi. There was mud caked in his hair, and he needed to get the blood off himself _now_.

He was certain there'd be a bruise on his stomach where the boy's knee connected. When he peeled off his gi and underkimono, pulling out a small, tattered notebook and placing it on the bench next to the wall, sure enough, there was a nice bruise starting to form. Checking for any other damage, Kenshin was relieved to just find bruises and a few shallow cuts. Nothing a little soap and water couldn't remedy. Stripping off his hakama, and pulling the tie from his hair, he found a stool and a bucket of warm water, and washed quickly, paying particular attention to his stiff hair. It smelled odd. He preferred not to think about what exactly was in that mud.

Thoroughly scrubbed and rinsed, Kenshin rose from the little stool and headed for the steaming furo. Hissing a bit as the hot water stung fresh cuts, he slowly lowered himself in, and leaned against the side. Could he get any closer to heaven? Eyes closed, drowsing in the warm water, Kenshin enjoyed a few precious minutes of not thinking before his stomach growled, and he was reminded of another pressing need. He was famished. How long had it been since he'd eaten last?

Clambering out of the furo with a regretful sigh, he reached for one of the towels neatly folded on a shelf next to the laundry basket. Absently drying off, then giving his hair a vigorous rub-down to draw out the worst of the water, Kenshin donned his yukata, slipped the notebook into the fold, and located the leather tie. He bent down and collected his towel and nasty clothes, dumping them into the wicker laundry basket on the way out.

Stopping off in the deserted kitchen on his way upstairs, Kenshin rummaged through the evening meal's leftovers, kindly left out by the inn's hostess for any stragglers from the fighting. Taking the fruits of his search back to his room, Kenshin gratefully sat down and tucked into dinner. Before eating, he did have the presence of mind to offer Kiyoshi something to eat, but was politely refused with a chuckle. Seeing that Kenshin seemed to be set for the evening, Kiyoshi took his leave, bidding his comrade a good night. Swallowing quickly, Kenshin returned the wish, "Good night, Kiyoshi, and thank you." Kiyoshi smiled, and slid the door closed.

Kenshin finished his leftovers and set the dishes aside to deal with in the morning. Licking his fingers clean, he got up and went over to check on Enishi. His face relaxed in sleep, and in the dim light, Kenshin could see a decided resemblance to Tomoe. Without even thinking, his hand stole out and stopped just short of Enishi. "Tomoe." The boy stirred a bit in his sleep, and Kenshin drew back his hand as if he'd been burned. Giving himself a mental shake, Kenshin stood up quickly. Snagging an extra blanket where they were stored in the corner and wrapping it around himself, he went over to the wall near the window and sat, one knee up, the other leg tucked under, and tried to relax into sleep.

Tired as he was, he couldn't get his mind to quiet enough for sleep. His thoughts kept circling around Enishi and something Kiyoshi had said. _"Say, where are your swords?"_ The phrase floated across his mind, and he shifted uncomfortably. It felt unspeakably odd to rest in this position without his katana leaning against his shoulder. What had he been thinking, just leaving his swords on the battlefield? Eyes snapping open, he almost jumped up and headed back out, barefoot and yukata-clad, just to get them back. _No, I don't need them anymore. It's over._ With that thought in mind, he forced himself to relax and at least rest, if not sleep. He still felt naked, though.

Kenshin awoke sometime in the dark early-morning hours with the most uncomfortable prickling sensation running down his spine. He opened gritty eyes to find Enishi sitting on the futon, eyes narrowed, glaring at him. Suppressing a start of surprise, Kenshin rubbed at his eyes and opened his mouth to speak.

Cutting him off before he had a chance to utter a word, Enishi lashed out. "You hit me, you ass! What the hell do you want with me, Battousai? Are you going to kill me too, like you did Sister? I'll fight you till my last breath. You're going to pay for what you did!" Enishi's voice steadily increased in volume, and now he sat clutching his blanket, panting and glaring at Kenshin with every ounce of venom he could muster.

In the dim moonlight, Kenshin met Enishi's eyes with a steady stare of his own and took a deep breath. This was going to be difficult. How was he going to get his point across on a few scant hours of sleep and sitting there like a fool in his pajamas? "Enishi, I have no intention of doing anything to you--"

"No! You lie! Sister decided to stay with you! I couldn't believe her, and look what happened! She's dead and it's your fault!"

Kenshin flinched, then immediately smoothed his features into his customary emotionless mask. It was too early to deal with this. _I should have hit him harder._ Inwardly chastising himself for that uncharitable thought, Kenshin tried to figure a way to calm Enishi.

"You're right. I did kill Tomoe--"

"Don't say her name! You've no right! No right!"

Kenshin tried to keep his voice level in the face of Enishi's ranting. Enishi watched him warily as he got up and knelt in front of him. "No, listen to me." Steeling himself, he began again.

"Your sister died by my hand. I don't deny it. There isn't a day that goes by that I don't regret what happened. However, what's done is done, and there isn't anything either you or I can do to bring her back. If you feel the need for revenge? Fine. I accept. But remember, nothing you do will return your sister to you." His heart twisted in his chest at his own words, but they had the desired effect on Enishi.

The boy visibly wilted, chin trembling with the effort of holding back tears. Kenshin felt a sharp stab of sympathy but knew any attempt on his part to try to comfort his brother-in-law would be soundly rejected. Instead he opted for staying still and watching his reaction.

The trembling stopped, and Enishi's face once again twisted in anger. "How can you say that? Don't you feel anything? You couldn't care less that she's gone, and, and I'm here alone!"

This time it was harder to tamp down the anger he felt welling up inside. Kenshin couldn't stop his hands from clenching where they rested on his thighs. Couldn't care less? No feeling? Tomoe was his very breath, she helped him regain his humanity and taught him the meaning of happiness. Kenshin pushed past his fury and thought a moment about Enishi's words. _"I'm here alone!"_ Oh dear.

Realizing his mistake, Kenshin tried to think of a new tactic with Enishi. Judgment clouded by the boy's anger, Kenshin had forgotten one vital detail. Enishi was still so young. And all he wanted was the return of someone who had cared deeply for him and had always been kind. Who had left him, first for a fiancé, then for a murderer, and finally in death. Didn't Tomoe say she had acted as his mother, raising him from birth? Kenshin recalled the pain of losing his own family, the fear at suddenly being alone. The pain was still there, a dull ache that never completely went away, no matter how many years passed.

Tomoe was gone, but perhaps there was someone else. A quiet conversation in a cozy single-room home in the country came to mind. _"My family is from Edo…Father was no good at the sword or the brush, but he was kind…"_ Obviously, Enishi hadn't gone home, but did that mean his father was gone? Kenshin hoped not.

"Enishi." At the sound of his name, the boy's head shot up and he glared at Kenshin, who wondered tiredly if he was capable of anything else. "Why didn't you go home, back to Edo? Your father must be worried sick about you."

Enishi snorted, and a flash of something almost too fast for Kenshin to catch crossed his features. "That old fool? He never was good at anything. Why should I go back to him?"

Ah! There. Shame. Enishi's words triggered realization. That flash across his face, Kenshin recognized it as shame. Understandable. From what he had gathered in the aftermath of Tomoe's death, Enishi had been involved with the Yaminobu. Small wonder he preferred not to go home. Kenshin was painfully aware of how difficult it would be to return to those one has disappointed. After all, at present, he had no intention of returning to his shishou. He hoped one day perhaps, but not now. The shame was too great, and he couldn't bear his shishou's reaction.

Kenshin was now convinced, though, that home was where Enishi needed to be. He could reconnect with his father and not be alone. They would help each other. Provided Yukishiro-san still lived in Edo. With the Shogunate slowly collapsing, it was possible the man had moved on. Kenshin pushed that troubling thought aside. He had to have faith that Yukishiro-san was still there. His son needed him.

Quietly he asked, "Does your father know what happened to Tomoe? Did anyone, did you, send word?"

Enishi stiffened and drew in a sharp breath, turning his head away. "No."

"Don't you think, as his son, that it is your duty to inform him? He has lost a daughter, and isn't even aware. He needs his son. A father shouldn't be denied his remaining child."

Kenshin's heart ached at the pure anguish radiating from Enishi. He hated using guilt to try to convince Enishi to go someplace safe, but his options were few. He wasn't called ruthless for no reason, and he'd do anything to try to protect Enishi.

Eyes downcast, Enishi nodded. Wordlessly, refusing to meet Kenshin's eye, he gathered the crumpled blanket from his lap and curled up under it into a ball on the futon. Sighing, Kenshin went back to his own blanket by the wall, and settled down for the remainder of the night.

Some minutes later, sensing Enishi was still awake, Kenshin took a chance and spoke softly into the darkness. "Tomoe's resting place is at a temple not far from this inn. Hers is a peaceful spot. Small, but dignified; it suits her. She might appreciate a visit…" He let his words trail off, hoping to offer some sort of comfort, however small.

For a long time, Enishi didn't say anything. Kenshin could feel him begin to calm a bit, and wondered if he was dropping off to sleep. In all honesty, he hadn't expected an answer. Enishi surprised him, though, when he finally whispered, "Sister always did prefer the quiet." In the darkness, Kenshin smiled.

Blinking, Kenshin mentally put away the events of that first night. He'd reserve a quiet time to ponder on that evening later. For now, they just needed to keep walking. Scanning the trees, and taking a good look at the road, Kenshin realized with a start that they'd walked a fair distance so far. He had the distinct impression that he'd been woolgathering, paying little attention to his surroundings. _Only stopped fighting a few days ago, and already I've gone soft. _He snorted in contempt, earning a curious glance from Enishi. Ignoring him, he eyed the position of the sun, almost at its zenith. They should consider something to eat, soon.


End file.
